[March 24] You should pay attention!

[Francis Bonnefoy]

_{[[Open to everyone, but please, only 3 people at most!! I am bad at keeping up orz]]}

Ah, class time. A period that is avoided by most students if possible, but eventually, it finds a way to make itself present. Currently, France had found himself trapped in the middle of "Foreign Economy: How not to set off a Depression", truly trying his best to pay attention but simply failing to find any interest in the class.

Deciding that he should, at the very least, not fall asleep, Francis ripped off a piece of paper from his notebook, and wrote. 'Would you like to talk, mon ami?'. Cautiously, he passed it to the person sitting next to him.

[Belle Rousseau]

Belle was doing her best to pay attention, but there was something about the professors monotonous droll that just managed to keep her from doing such, finding her mind wandering a bit as he went on about simple solutions to help during recessions. Yes, she really should have been but not even the subject matter could keep her tuned in on that voice.

She was sighing quietly to herself, tapping the end of her pen rhythmically to her notebook, having grown bored of doodling at least fifteen minutes ago, before a quick motion caught her attention from the corner of her eye. When she looked down, she saw a fresh sheet of paper placed over her own notebook, a very curvy, familiar sentence etched very beautifully across the top line. After glancing at her neighbor quickly, she pulled the sheet closer and scribbled a quick message back before handing it back over.

Are you about to fall asleep as well?

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Francis almost sighed in relief when he saw the note. Oh, an outing to this boring chatter! He read Belle's message with a smile before taking his pen with a dramatic movement.

'I'm afraid so. And that would just be rude, wouldn't it? I would not want to interrupt his lecture with a snore.'

This time he folded the paper, making it look like a long lost love letter (pardon the alliteration) before subtly passing it over.

[Belle Rousseau]

After passing the note back she tries once again to focus on the lecture, the occasional slide going by on the projector as he speaks, but its to no avail. Francis has stolen her attention and there was no way their professor was getting it back.

Shaking her head, she reached for the now folded note, unfolding it to read his message before jotting down another reply.

'Since when do you lose sleep over being rude?'

After scribbling her note she made sure to fold it just as he had before and handed it to him with a small smile.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

It was all going according to plan. He could now forget about impulse plans and work camps and other silly, unpleasant things, if only for that class. France couldn't help a slight snort as he read the message, annoying the country sitting in front of him (Ivory Coast? He seemed rather young, in any case). He wrote back in a haste,

'How you wound me! I am always considerate of those around me, cherie!'

and passed the note back, making sure he had a hurt expression on his face as he did so.

[Belle Rousseau]

In retrospect, starting this with Francis was probably not the wisest idea she's had today. Now that he had her attention she was sure that he was going to do what he could to keep it, if only for his own entertainment. But when she weighed out the options, it really was the only one she could take to stay awake.

With a roll of her eyes at his face she took the note and opened it again, reading it quickly before writing back.

'Of course. Except to those you molest.' Her message was meant in a playful manner of course, having known and respected Francis for a while now.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Oh, France knew he had her on the palm of his hand. In regular circumstances, Belgium would have ignored him - she was a good, focused student after all. But now, with the combination of a depressing topic and a ridiculously dull professor, he had almost her full attention. It was a nice feeling.

'That is such an ugly word. I much prefer to call them those I initiated in the art of French Love. None of which compare to you, of course.'

As for that last bit- well, he was France, after all.

[Belle Rousseau]

Indeed, Francis did prove to be the most interesting thing about this class thus far. She only hoped that silly distractions like this didn't become too much of a habit but in instances like this, it was welcome.

She opened the note and had to fight back a short laugh. So he was calling semantics, was he? Only France.

'I hadn't realized it was considered an art now. Perhaps you should ask Prof. Pangaea if he could make it an official course.'

She pointedly ignored the last bit, having grown used to his advancements over time and handed back his not with a sweet smile.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

'Everything I do is an art, cherie.'

France stared at the second part of the sentence for a while longer before responding. A course in the art of... "visiting" vital regions? The idea that it could be taught by Professor Pangaea made him have a very real, unpleasant shudder.

'That being said, it is one that took me years to master. I don't that this kind of knowledge could be learned in a classroom!'

[Belle Rousseau]

Belle looked down at the note with a smile, the small laugh that she let slip earning her a short look from the professor. After returning it with an apologetic one she quickly scribbled back.

'Not with the right professor! But perhaps it could be an extracurricular instead...'

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Of course, the moment the professor even started to look their way, Francis was already pulling an innocent look, one that said that he had no involvement with the laughter going on. He gave a quick look at the front before grabbing the paper and opening it, but he couldn't help the mischievous smirk at the suggestion.

'Oh? And who would you have in mind to lead such an activity?'

Of course, he thought as he passed it once more, any answer beyond the obvious would be disappointing.

[Belle Rousseau]

Making sure the professor wasn't looking their way, she opened the note and read it quickly, giving her eyes another roll. Honestly, like he didn't know the answer to that already.

'The Art of FRENCH Love? Who do you think?'

She figured he was just looking for either confirmation or an ego stroke. Either way she obliged. It isn't as though she had anything else to do. Paying attention doesn't count since we've covered how impossible that was.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Oh, Belgium, you know him so well. You could practically see the satisfaction in his face as he read the message, his ego clearly getting stroked in all the right places.

'Well, if you are the one asking, I could not possibly say no. It seems as though most of the campus could use some help in this department. Oh, perhaps I should start with you, cherie? Some private lessons?'

He had to be careful passing her the note again, after all, it was carrying all of his ego.

[Belle Rousseau]

Just as she stroked his ego, she could just as easily deflate it. She made no real noteworthy expression upon reading his last note, simply picking up her pen and scribbling hastily once more before passing it back just as stoically.

'I'm part French. I think I'll do fine without your tutoring.'

Read: Nice try, buddy. But that ain't happening in this lifetime.

[Francis Bonnefoy]

Oh, was that not a knife through his heart! Why, oh why, must Belgium reject his honest advances? He wrote down his reply in haste,

'Oho? I suppose I must make you my aid, then.'

and added a winky face() for effect.